


I'll be a little fool for you

by Builder



Series: Heroverse [29]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Established Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pre-Serum, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-War, relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 13:09:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18389066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Builder/pseuds/Builder
Summary: “Buck.”  Steve raises one hand as if to touch Bucky’s arm, then seems to think better of it.  “You know… you know how my mom felt about you, right?”  The final word is hardly more than a whisper.“Yeah.”  Bucky shrugs.  “I  mean, she didn’t dislike me.”“Nah, she liked you just fine,” Steve says.  “But she didn’t like who you were.  To me, you know?”  He blinks hard toward the wall.





	I'll be a little fool for you

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @builder051

It’s been twelve days that Sarah’s been in the ground.  Twelve days since Bucky’s seen Steve.  Twelve days apart from his best friend, his one and only.  

Bucky walks past Steve’s building a few times a day, checking for a light in the window.  Once he goes inside, hesitating on the stairwell as he squints toward the door before he loses his nerve and flees.  Where else would Steve be, save at Bucky’s?  And god knows that’s not where he is.  

It’s not till the thirteenth day that Bucky musters up the courage to knock.  “Fuck, Stevie,” he calls.  “What’re you doing?  Why are you ignoring me?”  He feels terrible as soon as the words leave his mouth, but what else can he say?  There are only so many unanswered phone calls he can make, only so many fruitless walks across the courtyard.  

There are footsteps on the other side of the door, then a sigh.

“Stevie.”  Bucky takes off his hat and runs his fingers through his hair.  “Come on.”

A long pause ensues during which neither of them breathe, then the door opens a crack.  One tearful blue eye stares at Bucky, red-rimmed and watery.

“Hey,” Bucky says.  He switches his cap to the other hand and grips the door frame to keep Steve from shutting him out.  Bucky’s heart drops again.  Steve’s his best friend; he shouldn’t have to worry about him this way.  But Steve’s his best friend.  So of course he does.

“Hey,” Steve replies, wiping his nose on his sleeve.  “Do you want to, um…?”  He jerks his head vaguely behind him, then glances over his shoulder.  He looks tired.  Maybe a little guilty.

“What, you got a dame in there you never told me about?”  Bucky laughs, hoping the joke will break the tension.  

It does no such thing.  Steve just looks a further shade of uncomfortable.

“Look, I’m sorry.”  Bucky pushes the door open the rest of the way and opens his arms, eager to fold Steve into them and put everything right.  

“Buck…” Steve squirms, flattening his palms against Bucky’s chest.  “Don’t.”

“Alright, alright.”  Bucky backs into the wall beside the door.  He closes it with one hand and throws his hat onto the rack.  He wants to make Steve feel comfortable, not intimidate him.  Though Bucky feels he’s probably doing both.  It’s not just like old times.  Bucky’s stupid for trying to make it that way.  

Steve retreats to the couch, which is covered in a nest of grungy blankets.  The indent in the middle is perfectly formed to his small body.  He sighs again and lifts his chin, though Bucky’s looking over his head at the pile of dishes in the kitchen sink.

“You could’ve asked for help,” Bucky says quietly.  “If you’re having trouble.  There’s no shame in it.”

“Yes there is,” Steve mumbles defiantly.

“Not with me,” Bucky insists.  “You could’ve come for Thanksgiving.  Or I could’ve come here, or–”  He breaks off, unsure of what else to offer.  The frightened look on Steve’s face tells him he should be quiet, though all his other instincts say otherwise.

“Buck.”  Steve raises one hand as if to touch Bucky’s arm, then seems to think better of it.  “You know… you know how my mom felt about you, right?”  The final word is hardly more than a whisper.

“Yeah.”  Bucky shrugs.  “I  mean, she didn’t dislike me.”

“Nah, she liked you just fine,” Steve says.  “But she didn’t like who you were.  To me, you know?”  He blinks hard toward the wall.

“Don’t go there, Stevie,” Bucky mumbles, though he knows it’s too late.  Steve’s already there, and he’s been there, alone, for thirteen days.  “You know whatever you’re thinking, it’s not true.”

“But she was my mom,” Steve gasps.  “And if she didn’t like the way I was…”  He shakes his head.  “Who am I to question that?”  He finally turns in Bucky’s direction, his eyes aglow with wetness again.

“I don’t know.  A smart man?” Bucky smiles, though he backtracks all the same.  “Look, Stevie, sometimes parents are…I don’t know.  Old fashioned?  You don’t have to do everything your mom ever told you just to show you love her.  Seeing me ain’t disrespecting her memory.  It’s just you being you.”  He wraps his fingers around Steve’s trembling forearm and pulls him into half a hug.  “And I ain’t just saying that.  You know that.”

“I just…I don’t know, Buck…”  Steve leans into Bucky as he shakes his head, his blonde hair rubbing against Bucky’s ear.  “Maybe it’s too soon…”

“Too soon, my ass.  It’s been two weeks, but it feels like a year.”  Bucky reaches to cup Steve’s chin.  “And I know you feel the same way.”

“Dammit, Buck.”  Steve pulls away violently, falling into the arm of the sofa.  “This is exactly what I mean.  It’s not that I don’t…want… it, but…I just…I can’t…”  Tears spill down his pink cheeks.  “Not anymore.”

“Stevie.”  Bucky lets out his breath, his stomach pulling into a tight knot.  He feels dizzy for a second.  His palms sweat, and he scrubs them on the knees of his trousers.  “I…” He pauses.  “Ok.  I’d… I’ll…” He can’t bring himself to say it.  “For you.”

Steve pauses too, his lower lip quivering as he stares into his lap.  “Ok.  Yeah.”  Then without warning, without even looking up, he throws himself at Bucky, pulling both arms around the taller boy’s neck and latching on.  

Bucky jerks back a step in surprise, then accepts Steve’s slight weight against him.  He wraps Steve around the waist and lifts him a few inches off the ground in his embrace.  

For once Bucky isn’t sure how to read it.  Is this love?  Or perhaps goodbye?  He doesn’t know.  But in this moment, he won’t be the first one to let go.


End file.
